


With The Lights Out

by theprincessed



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Breaking and Entering, Butt Plugs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Riding, Rimming, Top Harry, Up All Night Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:59:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis sneak back to an arena in the middle of the night to fuck on stage. (Set during the Up All Night tour)</p>
            </blockquote>





	With The Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I'm coming to the end of my stash and it's been a month since I posted anything...This is the penultimate throwback fic. It was actually inspired by someone else's way back in 2012, but she's left the fandom long ago, as have all the links to her work, unfortunately. Basically, the summary and the quote below says it all:
> 
>  _‘Somehow, one day,’ Harry wonders aloud, ‘we’ve got to fuck on stage. Like, when the place is empty. Wanna make you scream in that big open space, Lou.’_ ~ Stage Whisper.
> 
> This is the story of how they managed it.
> 
> Originally posted 3 July 2012.

It takes Louis until mid-morning to decide that he’s got to find a solution that evening. It’s been a few weeks since the aftermath of Harry’s filthy whispering when the group were on stage and Louis’ looked for payback at every opportunity and not quite made it work. As much as he loves that they consider themselves a versatile pair, Louis can’t deny that there’s nothing like the feeling of being filled, of pushing back or sinking down onto a cock that complements every sinuous roll of his hips. As a result, he’s taken to not giving Harry what he wants entirely since they returned home, fending him off with slick, twisting handjobs that make him writhe and long, slow times with his pretty mouth that stokes the fire behind his eyes until Louis can figure out what he can suggest to give themselves the next best fuck of their lives. He doesn’t mind torturing himself in the process, aches to have Harry inside him as much and smirking through the frustration that looks like it’ll soon make Harry cross-eyed and attempt to take him anyway.

Tonight, they’re in Bournemouth and not the other side of the world. The weather is grey and foreboding, but they’re cocooned in a small theatre to sound check for a short string of gigs that will get them back into the swing of things in their homeland before summer pop festivals and shows in castle grounds are upon them. As Louis stands where the audience will be later on and tips his head back to look at the architecture of the ceiling covered by the lighting rig and suspended speakers, a voice dips and crawls into his ear in a timely break from the crash of their tour band’s instruments.

“This is over soon. Want to go somewhere and grab a bite to eat?”

They both know that’s risky anywhere nowadays and that it’s particularly, spectacularly undeniable when it’s Harry, so the chances of security even letting them try are fairly low. It was more likely that they’d go back to their hotel and get something there, under a small canopy of privacy that provided on the whole. Yet Louis glances sidelong at Harry as he slides to stand next to him, their arms almost touching but his gaze fixed nonchalantly on the stage in front, and he instantly also knows that the talk isn’t completely innocent. Despite it being a bit of a joke that Niall and food go hand in hand, all five of them have bottomless appetites as the cause of their usually ‘grab-and-go’ hectic lifestyles but Harry’s tone is anything but casual, regardless of its lazy pace. He could almost leave a full stop after every word for the latter of the sentence and Louis tries not to shiver and cave in, folding his arms as if he’s simply cold.

“Sorry,” he shakes his head, still not looking at him fully, “no can do.”

He feels a light hand at the small of his back, resting there as Harry leans in again and keeps his voice to a whisper, “I wasn’t _actually_ talking about lunch, y’know? Been thinking about you on your knees for me all morning, since we didn’t have enough time to trade before our wake up call.”

Louis attempts an affronted expression, his mouth falling open as Harry unwittingly plays right into his sketchily forming game, “You’d really want me to wreck my voice before tonight? I’d sound ill.”

Harry smirks and takes his hand from Louis to elbow him playfully instead, like they’re having a perfectly normal conversation, “How do you know? We’ve never tried that so close to a show before.” His wandering hand clasps the exposed nape of Louis’ neck, “I bet you’d sound hot. Fucked out.”

Louis shakes his head to try and lessen the smile tugging at his lips before he ambles behind Harry to stop him from staring at them unflinchingly and drapes his arms over his shoulders. “Maybe if you can wait ‘til _after_ the gig,” he starts, voice momentarily strained as he jumps onto Harry’s back and settles into the grip Harry automatically seizes on his thighs in reaction, “I might put out in celebration.”

\--

He doesn’t.

He wants Harry wound up nearly to breaking point and consciously takes more time than usual in the hotel bathroom, trying to quell any telltale sounds. When he eventually slides back the lock as quietly as he can and slips out into their twin room, Louis finds Harry in a boneless sprawl, sleeping with one arm resting above his head and the hand of the other one placed on his stomach, the adrenaline of the night finally leaving him for slumber. The time spent had been wise and he hopes, has an inkling that Harry will thank him for it later.

Gingerly, Louis pads over to his bed in his t-shirt and pyjama bottoms and turns onto his side to slip underneath the cool sheets. He distantly feels Harry though, his warmth and solid presence, as the beds had inevitably been pushed together the second they got into the room. It means that Harry is close but they aren’t touching when Louis joins him, lest one of them shift too harshly in the night and end up crashing straight through the pushed out gap. He decides to sleep for a while to gather his energy, his body curious to feel Harry’s heat and big hands and the surprise Louis has waiting for him.

\--

“Haz,” Louis hisses; quiet even though they’re the only two in the room. It seems appropriate in a hotel probably of mostly sleeping guests this early in the morning. “Harry, wake up.”

There’s a quick breath in, a stretching of long limbs then a mumble as he keeps his eyes resolutely closed, “Whatsit?”

Stifling a giggle, Louis clambers out of bed and tiptoes round to the opposite side of Harry’s. He could’ve just leaned over from where he was, but he’s thrumming with anticipation already and wants to get going before time ticks by any faster. He makes himself kneel down on the carpet and looks down at Harry’s face, half-awake but clinging more still to the blissful idea of sleep. Louis runs a gentle hand through his curls, pushing them away from his face, and leans in.

“I want you to fuck me.”

There’s a beat of silence before Harry opens the eye that’s visible. “You woke me up to tell me that?” he groans, “Lou, get back in bed and I really, really promise that I’ll _gladly_ fuck you later. I’ll even make sure we have plenty of time before a different sort of banging starts on our door.”

Louis’ standing up and he dodges easily with another small laugh as Harry heavily tries to catch him with a wayward arm to pull him into bed and over his body. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it more sleep?” he looks so suddenly hopeful despite the deadpan tone of his sense of humour that it makes Louis grin, even as he frowns thoughtfully, “By the way, why are you so awake? You’re not exactly an early riser when we have a choice and definitely not at – _Jesus_ – four in the fucking morning.”

“Can’t sleep,” he shrugs dismissively, reaching out to grasp Harry’s lazily waving arm but using it to drag him out of bed, “Come on; I want to show you something.”

“I forget that you’re fucking mental sometimes,” Harry groans again.

“I’m being mischievous,” he sighs, but smiles when Harry stops resisting and he staggers to his feet. Louis’ eyes flick down and he snorts. “Although you might want to put some clothes on first.”

\--

As it happens, where Louis wants to take Harry isn’t far from their hotel. What’s more, they’ve been there once the previous day. It’s still fairly dark and cloudy and he squints into the dark as they stand across the road before he stares at Louis expectantly like he hoped he would. With a grin and a motion forward with his hand, he leads Harry towards the venue that had been positively alive a few hours ago and now stood quiet. He doesn’t bother explaining anything either because he knows the actual surprise will be all the greater for it.

“What the hell are we doing here?” Harry finally chuckles.

Louis pretends that they have to sneak past the barrier and supposed security when in actual fact, if Harry bothered to take his eyes away from him for one second, he’d quickly realise that it’s a small place that simply gets locked up and left to its own devices until the next morning. With money being as tight as it is, such a thing as twenty four hour personable security was probably seen as a luxury. Or maybe they were just lax. Either way, he simply casts a sly smile over his shoulder as they keep moving in a half ducked position that reminds them of exciting spy films.

But spies they are not and it doesn’t take Louis long to shuffle Harry to the side of the building and stop at a large grate. He looks at Harry again for luck.

“Stop smiling at me,” he swats at Louis half-heartedly, missing intentionally by a mile, “and tell me what’s going on.”

Louis rolls his eyes at that. “Keep your curls on. In two seconds you'll know everything, okay?” A pause and his mouth twists as his head tilts thoughtfully. “Well, almost everything. You or me?”

He’s pointing at the grate and Harry frowns, so with a sigh, Louis puts his hands to it and starts wiggling the metal. It comes loose easily and Harry stares before swiftly deciding that he doesn’t want to know and it doesn’t matter anyway. Instead, Louis plants the grate slightly ajar from the hole it’s created then turns to see Harry’s taken a step forward. He draws a small circle into the t-shirt covering Louis’ chest, in the mid-point of his sternum, before pressing his fingertip into the bone for emphasis.

“You first. I deserve compensation for being dragged out of bed like this on some magical mystery tour of somewhere _I’ve already been_.”

It’s all the same to Louis, so he shrugs and bends down because he knows all what Harry is yet to learn. Even though he found this way himself, the journey through the vent feels as long to Louis as it probably does to Harry but he daren’t turn around. He can hear the twin sounds of their knees knocking against metal and that’s enough to know that he’s being followed and besides, he wouldn’t want to interrupt Harry. He’s not stupid; he knows perfectly well that he’s getting in some prime staring time and can’t help pushing his arse back a touch so that the curve to his spine also deepens.

“I’m hoping you won’t regret it,” he says conversationally, his voice bouncing around the tiny space as they crawl.

Eventually, they fall out into a grey corridor and Louis checks his bearings as he waits for Harry as he struggles to his feet, hands flailing a little. Louis blinks down at him, eyes tracking up as he unfolds to his full height, and finds his lips twitching in a smirk whilst marvelling at how he manages to be handsome as well as cute as a button. Harry catches him blatantly looking and frowns.

“That thing is not made for people with long legs, okay?”

Louis’ mouth falls open, scandalised. “What’re you trying to say?!”

“You haven’t got long legs,” he snorts with a casual shrug, before his body aligns in front of Louis’, not touching but _there_ as his voice drops, “but you’ve got a spectacularly tempting arse.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis grumbles, flapping a hand dismissively as he turns away, “think of something else, you lazy sod.”

They walk silently through a few corridors, peeking around corners under Louis’ instruction until Harry starts bursting into giggles at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation whilst valiantly trying to cover it up. Louis does away with the charade pretty quick after that, grinning over his shoulder and telling himself that they probably won’t come across anyone here in the dead of night. Although he fully intends to blame Harry’s lack of concern if they do. They eventually come to a set of double doors and he pushes them open with a quiet flourish and walks ahead, turning on his heel once to watch the expression dawning on Harry’s face as he glances around in the half dark, then facing away again. It’s no coincidence that they stop roughly in the same spot as that lunchtime when Harry asks “isn’t this - ?” and already knows the answer.

“Sorry it’s not quite the MEN Arena or anything,” Louis says, as he presses close to his side, “But, uh, size doesn’t always matter, right?”

Harry blinks slower than normal, still maybe sleepy. “I’m – not following.”

Amused, Louis laughs a little and half turns so that there’s only a sliver of space between their bodies. He leans up, his hand around Harry’s neck and he automatically lowers his chin, bowing close to Louis’ proximity.

“You said that someday you wanted to fuck on stage. Someday is today. If you like.”

Louis pulls back from Harry’s ear to gauge his reaction, their eyes naturally locking onto each other. Neither of them says anything about the softly voiced offer for a few long moments, staring at one another’s faces until Louis catches Harry’s gaze inevitably meandering to his mouth and then further down, even though they’re standing too close for him to see anything past Louis’ waist. But this doesn’t feel hesitant, despite there being no vocalised answer. In fact, it reminds Louis of them as they are in public, curiously lengthy looks and gentle touches and he doesn’t realise that his breathing stutters out of time for a beat, shaky, until he feels Harry’s palm connect with his elbow.

“So...is that a yes?”

“What do you think?” Harry gasps.

In the next second, he lunges quickly and Louis’ startled, pleased giggle gets lost as his face is grabbed and the noise is kissed away. He starts pulling Harry forward immediately, hands roaming across his broadening shoulders or fisted in the white t-shirt he had quickly shrugged on before leaving the hotel until Harry lets him go and he’s toying with the hem. Louis wants there to be less clothes between them too, but in the middle of the arena floor is hardly ideal. He breaks their kiss with a grin.

“Not here,” he warns and slips his hand over the warmth of Harry’s to tug him along, “come on,”

But Harry is slightly petulant and fidgets, desperate to get naked now that he knows what this crazy idea leads to. “Why not?”

“Up here is better. I don’t fancy crawling around in the dark, trying to pick up all the evidence of us later on. Do you?”

Louis tries to affect a strict eyebrow raise, daring Harry to even think about challenging him, but they’re already at the side of the stage so he distracts him instead. They return to kissing and Louis yanks Harry in the mere couple of inches it takes, knowing that Harry gets a kick out of it. Louis is tempted to make it go on forever to be a terrible tease but his hips and his cock has other ideas, searching out the feel of Harry’s against his. He’s twitching in his own skin at the contact, a reminder of what he’d made happen by himself in a hotel bathroom not too many hours ago, and it’s that which forces him to move his mouth away again, palm flat on Harry’s chest.

“Can you do me a favour?” he asks, sweet but deliberately sending a look through the sweep of his eyelashes and trying not to show too much reaction when he gets a simple nod of agreement. “Stay here.”

Louis turns towards the edge of the stage that he was increasingly being pressed into and uses his hands and arms to push himself up over the easy drop. He gets a knee onto the floor whilst Harry gets an eyeful of his arse again and makes sure he’s quick enough getting to his feet that he won’t act on it and find something out before Louis is ready to show him. Its seconds away and Louis feels the rhythm of his heart continue its excited thump, rising further if possible when he moves over to the comfy, cushioned sofa that had been left out after the gig because they’re back there to do it all again that evening. He toes off his Toms then kicks them slightly out of his way before facing Harry and seeing that he’s got his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, maybe to stop them from being so restless. But Louis doesn’t want that now, not when they can shuck their clothes in a haphazard pile somewhere on stage and still find them for a quick getaway when they’re done.

He indicates Harry with his chin and a smile, “Take it off.”

When Harry’s face eagerly disappears beneath the folds of worn material of his t-shirt, Louis makes the most of the split second he’s not captured by his attention to wiggle out of his pyjama bottoms. He doesn’t entirely mean to catch his boxers but he feels them slip, thinks _why the hell not_ and shimmies out of them too. He carefully reclines on the sofa, soft colourful cotton smooth along his bare skin, and spreads his thighs tentatively as Harry pushes his wayward hair out of his eyes and focuses on him once more. He can’t see any of his eyes widen at the sight, but Louis definitely spots how his mouth parts in surprise and Louis arches his back slightly as if drawn to it.

“Holy – ” Harry starts, awed and a little confused but entirely awake, “ – _fuck_.”

Louis bites down on his lip as he tucks his knees in towards his chest and his feet flat on the edges of the seat, but keeps his legs wide and his hips tilted a little forward. A clear view. He’s desperate to touch the edge of the small buttplug pushed between his buttocks, black and stark and shiny from plenty of lube when he can’t resist any longer and gets a couple of fingers to it, sliding an inch out of his body. Comprehension dawns on Harry’s face and Louis almost sighs in what sounds like relief, the secret out that he’d been wearing it for hours, gone to bed with the toy keeping something up inside, stretching gently and getting him ready for just how much he wanted Harry to fuck him.

Louis curls his other hand into a fist beside his thigh as he moves the plug further away then twists back in with more force, enough for his mouth to go slack of its own accord and his eyes to roll back briefly, too wired to withstand much. It’s his lack of concentration on his surroundings that means he misses Harry hurrying to the right of the stage then slowing his steps when Louis fixes his gaze on him and tries to shake his head, even as Harry climbs up towards him.

“No, watch.” he croaks, eyes hardening in determination but his limbs remaining where they are.

Harry frowns, just as stubborn, “Like hell I will. I’m not gonna watch you defile this sofa without me.”

Louis hasn’t even thought about that as he sits nearly naked on something of a prop for their gig and his hand curves over his dick, spreading a damp spot into his t-shirt beneath the tip. A shocked laugh spills out of him, hastily tailing off into a louder moan as his enjoyment makes him careless and his other wrist twists and pushes the toy in hard. His hips buck somewhat fruitlessly with Harry deliciously looming in front of him, the lack of friction for his cock making him dizzy and left wanting more than what he’s given himself. It wasn’t enough in their tiny hotel bathroom with its too harsh lighting and polished tiles, wiggling the toy in with one leg balanced across the edge of the sink, and it’s definitely not enough when Harry’s staring down at him, slowly licking his lower lip like he’s not even aware of it. Louis strains to grab him by his hair because of his bare torso and they need to be more careful these days about leaving too many visible marks and, as he’s bringing him in, another helpless small noise falls out and Harry’s mouth parts to breathe against his.

“Please,” he mutters as he tangles his fingers in soft, sleep-mussed curls, “Haz – _please_ – ”

“Would you come if I didn’t?” Harry asks when they are nose to nose.

Louis nods frantically even though he’s not quite there yet, he could hold out for longer depending on Harry’s choices. They both know what he wants and Louis kisses the corner of Harry’s mouth, fumbling away from finesse, when Harry whispers for him to turn around. He starts to remove the plug, shivering with anticipation already, but a hand clamped firmly around his wrist startles him into a pause and he focuses back on Harry’s face, the set of his jaw and tension in his neck.

“Turn around.” he repeats meaningfully.

Vibrating from the feel of being bossed around a little more than usual, Louis relents obediently and gets his knees shakily down into the sofa cushions as he faces the back and waits for Harry’s move. He can smell him before he feels his presence, soft from slumber but headily musky and Louis breathes shallow and quick as a warm hand pushes him to bend slightly more then takes hold of his fingers. They skim plastic the further Harry eases his arm behind his back before Harry’s moulding his over the end, silently telling him to return to what he was doing but in this new position. In some way, Louis feels more exposed here than opening his legs for him and he jolts with the thought, rocking the plug sharply until he nearly falls forward with his throat pressed along the top of the sofa. He forgets his own sounds and listens to Harry react as he lets go of Louis to rub a fingertip into the crease of his arse, down until he’s at stretched, slick skin split by something of Louis’ doing. It doesn’t seem to deter him as Louis feels the added give of an extra hand helping him to pull out halfway, only to be suddenly full to the brim way too quick to be just the toy. He gasps needily for the pair of fingers tucked up into the space half occupied by the plug and Louis steels himself as he shoves the plastic in again regardless, his body unfurling like magic. Harry moves his fingers in time and Louis can only imagine what he looks like, so brazen and ridiculous and _filled_ when he hasn’t even taken off all his clothes. A laugh comes out like a relieved sob as he feels Harry’s other hand then skating up his spine and dragging the hem of Louis’ t-shirt with him, humming in contentment at touching Louis’ skin when he shuffles forward as close as he can get. Louis can hardly concentrate on much and Harry more than likely knows it from the way he takes hold of the material bunched beneath his armpits and kisses the base of his neck, just before the first bone of his hunched back. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes unashamedly.

“Shut up,” Louis gasps just as a thumb pulls him open around the plug and rubs at the tight stretch of pink skin. “Don’t – don’t get all soppy on me right now. Can’t handle it.”

Harry suddenly leaves the plug alone and Louis’ t-shirt drops back into place as his hand moves to the side of Louis’ face. He strains his neck to see him, stretched taut underneath the flickers of pleasure he’s uncoordinatedly giving himself, but he does it because this is Harry and his soft eyed expressions never fail to warm him. He darts in quick for a kiss then cheekily licks the parted gap of Louis’ mouth before moving to his ear.

“You’re beautiful, inside and out, but especially inside because you think of mad stuff like this, so _you_ shut up, okay?”

Louis can’t help the shiver that runs through him because this is how it started, how his crazy ridiculous idea formed because of Harry’s whispers at the most inappropriate of times. People probably think its all filth and, with the way he goes about it, Louis doesn’t blame them but it’s not entirely true. Sometimes he just wants to be a sap and try to keep it between the two of them, even if his eyes still spell it out. He’ll tell Louis when he thinks he’s being cute without realising or amazing or an idea he wants Louis’ opinion on, like a silly lyric change because that’s what they do, they’re always open, always communicating. Sometimes it’s sweet, a lot of the time it’s undeniably hot.

Louis can feel Harry breathing as well as hear it and it’s driving him crazier by the second until another kiss is pressed to his lips.

“You want my mouth,” Harry says, phrasing it more like inevitability than a question, “not here.” He covers Louis’ own with two fingers then let’s go just as quick. “Or here.” A fist curling on his half forgotten cock, making him move away a little on instinct and push his hand and the plug backwards into Harry’s covered thigh. “But here.” His fingers circle Louis’ hole, but nothing more. “Are you loose enough for me, Lou? Want to get my tongue right into you if we take this out,”

“Fuck,” he whines as another shiver takes control of his body, “fuck _yes_ ,”

“Lean over this way then.” Harry directs casually, but keeping to a whisper, as he pats the nearby arm of the sofa.

The teeth of his smile is at the shell of Louis’ ear as he leaves the plug be to grapple with a new position and Harry’s words really start to sink in more and sound awfully familiar until Louis gets a flashback of them on tour, of Harry’s whispering and he realises that he will get what he wants eventually because even when he’s come from Harry licking him open and nothing else, that’s never meant the night is over for them.

As he’s distracted and thrumming with the tension to touch himself and be touched some more, Louis lets Harry manhandle him how he wants until he’s kneeling on the sofa seat with his forearms braced on the armrest and the cushion dips as Harry shuffles around behind him. He’s practically one long line on top of him as Louis’ heart picks up speed and Harry turns his face towards his ear, telling him to lift his arms. His t-shirt gets whipped off quicker than previously toyed with and knuckles knock past his hip as Harry toes off his trainers and shimmies out of his sweatpants, too long limbs making him flail and crash backwards onto the empty part of the seat. Louis looks over his shoulder and even though he feels faintly ridiculous, he can’t help but giggle at Harry as well and feel something roll pleasantly inside his chest when he simply grins in reply, dimples popping.

He’s still smiling and thus caught a little off guard when Harry crowds in close and inches out the plastic buried inside him with the smallest of movements, enough to make his eyes close and his mouth fall open before tensing in a lip bite as a nose nuzzles against his hunched over shoulder. Louis half hopes Harry will continue telling him what he’s going to do before he does it, but apparently that part of the night is over because, without words, Louis feels the strong grip of him take hold of the buttplug, careful but not dawdling. In the next second when Louis’ only clenching against air, Harry slides two fingers into his hole and right up to his last knuckle to make Louis crumble into the sofa with a noisy groan, spine and hands positioned taut and unyielding. Harry, clearly liking the sound if his grin against Louis’ ear is any sign, angles his fingers in such a way that Louis can’t help being loud and he buries his flushed face into the armrest, perhaps to muffle it.

“Wanna taste you,” Harry says to him as he eases his fingers out again, “Wanna fuck you so good you’ll be screaming,”

Louis tastes the unpalatable colourful cotton stretched across the furniture as his teeth grazes into it and he shifts his hips back in demand as a thumb presses in to his hole for the thrill of it, probably so Harry can watch him wriggle and – he hopes – beg like a man possessed. Hands keep to his arse, smoothing and digging and pulling him wide, until Louis drops his head past his shoulders and tries to look between his spread knees, to see Harry on all fours too. His face disappears from view and Louis goes back to hiding, pressing his shut eyelids into the sofa as Harry kisses his lower back, licking at the natural curve and quickly peppering his skin with marks from his lips. The first wet swirl of his tongue always has Louis’ head reeling and his stomach somersaults when a hand unexpectedly leaves his arse to curl around his cock, untouched for a while and shiny at the tip. Harry rubs his lips back and forth against the swollen crown and dips into the slit to cause an unchecked sob to tumble out of Louis’ open mouth, the sound repeating when he licks straight from there, the briefest of flickers up to across his balls then decisively around his hole to leave the skin soaked with saliva.

He’s perfectly happy to swim in that sensation, but it seems Harry is not as he hums ponderously against his skin and suddenly tries to drag him from clinging to the arm. Louis only has to blink before his legs are either side of Harry’s head but he’s facing Harry’s feet, shivering when hands stroke down his ribcage and nip at the warm skin of his thighs, delicate and an easy target for lovebites especially with how he’s spread out. He’s clamped in place by his hips and the distracting sight of Harry’s hard cock near his face as it juts out from the messy sprawl of long legs on a too small sofa. He licks his lips, mouth lowering towards the accidental invitation, as Harry returns his with contented, rumbling fervour, working his mouth with more purpose until Louis is almost leaning on top of him and pushing to get him deeper, big hands fluttering maddeningly along his back in a pattern only they seem to know. For his trouble, Louis curls a fist around Harry’s erection and sucks him halfway, twisting his fingers on the upstroke and wringing him of his first proper sound as he gets him good and wet. It seems once he starts the encouragement, he can’t stop and Louis echoes it as Harry doubles his efforts with his tongue.

“One day I’m gonna film this,” he chokes for breath suddenly, lying flat against the seat and Louis arches as Harry curls his fingers back into his arse for the moment, “gonna film _us_ , so you can really see how good you look, spreading your legs for me, sucking my cock, how good we look together.”

There’s not even a word that can create an adequate response to that so Louis quickly pulls off his cock and swings round to show him just how much he agrees, kissing surprised but happy noises right out of Harry’s mouth as Harry’s hands cradle the back of his head, sinking into damp roots of his hair and letting their legs become entangled. In fact, he’s laid in the perfect position for Louis to thrust against and he’s tempted alright but the feel of Harry so close reminds him of the plan from the start. He rolls his hips and grins shakily beside Harry’s cheek as he tries to grind their bodies to make the friction they need until Louis grabs hold of his chin and pretends to bite the sharpest point of his jawline, his green eyes trained on the empty venue instead of him.

“You promised you’d fuck me,” he licks at his throat, Adam’s apple dipping under his tongue, “please, Harry. Want you to fuck me, been ready for fucking hours.”

With a calculating sidelong glance towards him and a pause, Harry grabs his wrist and Louis will never admit the stunned squeak that comes out of him as he puts his other hand on the small of his back and flips them over so that he’s on top. He can’t help squirming underneath the comfortable weight of Harry and bending towards the touch of his mouth as he plants kisses from his cheek and all the way down to his shoulder, his dick leaking and rubbing hotly over Louis’ stomach.

“Condom?” he asks, pretty level for someone locked in between Louis’ limbs.

He groans, frustrated at the prospect of him moving, “Pyjamas.”

Louis sits up on his elbows, knees slightly raised and legs open as Harry searches on the stage for the checked item and the right pocket. He’s clumsy with need and Louis impatiently waits exactly half a second before he lays back again to cup his dick in one hand and thumb down his perineum with the other, wiggling a finger into slick heat. Harry turns around with a grin, his expression faltering darkly as he sees another wanton display from his lover and rushes towards him.

“Put it on me,” he demands in a deeper tone but keeping to a whisper to not disturb the half-light hush.

Louis blinks, but takes the wrapper from him. He fumbles to get it open as Harry deviously tries his best to distract him, like some kind of punishment for not being able to wait two minutes more. He flicks his tongue around a nipple and Louis grits his teeth, hands trembling, as he sucks on the nub with an obscene noise. He’s moving across to pay the other one some attention when Louis palms his side to get him into a position where he can reach for his cock. Harry comes up willingly and Louis stares into his face with that ever-present note of rebellious mischief beneath his expression as he smoothes the condom over him. He gives him a couple of tugs to see his eyes flutter then Louis drops his hands, effectively letting go of control.

“You’re gonna be so loud,” Harry promises, pressing his lips to his cheekbone, “loud enough to reach the back of his place – never be able to sit here the same again – come on, breathe for me.”

Louis shuts his eyes and takes his advice to breathe steady as something wider than a couple of fingers prod at his hole. The lube from fucking himself with the buttplug helps a little and he whimpers half in relief as Harry slides through inch by inch. He clenches around him, trying his damnedest to welcome him in through the hint of a stretching ache and relaxes his grip on Harry’s shoulders and that’s how Harry knows when to straighten up and kneel, his hands holding the backs of Louis’ thighs. He can still barely look when Harry starts the slow rock of his hips, but it doesn’t matter because they fly open on a gasp as he feels Harry’s hips snap forward and the whole length of his dick drag inside him and out. Louis nods his head jerkily after he gives him silent permission to build the pace until he’s moaning on every other measured stroke and tightening his arse whenever he sees how Harry disappears and feels his back shift on the seat as the increasing force of Harry’s thrusts jostle his body, but he’s grateful that it’s smooth material and no carpet (learned that the hard way) so simply reaches over his head to clutch at the armrest and hold on. A handful of eager, shallow fucking later, Harry leans down for a kiss, his hips slowing to rolling, deep bursts and Louis nearly bites on Harry’s lip as he swivels and changes the angle to create more pressure as he takes his ear for another moment.

“Wanna ride me?” he whispers roughly, his voice shot deep to hell from exertion.

Louis seems to lose him to distraction as soon as he’s asked the question, like the squeeze of Louis around his cock is too great not to take advantage of. He straightens up once more and, from the height of his legs rested along the length of Harry’s torso, he can see his toes curl in towards Harry’s chest as he opens half-lidded eyes and the slap of skin on skin resonates the faster and harder he’s fucked until he cries out a hurried yes with a nod of the head. Harry gathers him close and locks his arms underneath Louis’ back, lifting him into his lap and they wriggle around amidst kissing like they haven’t for days, to feel the familiarity of the slip-slide and he moans as Harry settles into a sitting position like the tens of times they have on this sofa when they’ve really been on stage.

“You can ride me,” he grins and Louis wraps his fingers in his sweaty curls, pushing them off his forehead, “but I wanna see you properly. Face your audience, Lou.”

On shaky limbs and a shocked whimper that Harry would give him _that_ image, he does as requested with hands clawed on knees and feet mistakenly kicking Harry in the sides until he can lean back into his body with a pleased shiver. Louis props his feet on the sofa, either side of Harry’s legs, and his hips jerk at Harry still pressed inside him. He chases the feeling and repeats the movement hard enough that he slips free and Louis sucks in a breath at the immediate sense of emptiness that smacks into him with his hand reaching to sink down on his cock again before he’s made the conscious thought. Harry kisses his cheek as he squirms and they become even more of a chain reaction, both of them almost trying to outdo the other with how much sensation they can give and take.

Louis’ taking him easier now and Harry picks up his thrusts by holding onto him tighter between his waist or his hips, caressing his sweating skin and encouraging him to meet him toe to toe with loud appreciation and affection of his own. It really works for Louis and he lets Harry have his fill to pound his arse until they’re both delirious with the sharp tension of it and he feels his limbs turn liquid and pliant. Harry notices quickly and slows for a while as he brings him back into his lap and switches his hands to his thighs. Louis’ hips twitch again like they’re being pulled by an invisible string but, instead of giving in completely; he rocks in tight little circles and shakes as his nerves spark into life.

“Imagine we could film this right now,” Harry says to him and Louis’ not sure how much more he can take of his incessant mouth, even though he loves it. He slides his arm along the sofa and beneath Harry’s neck and he understands straight away, kissing Louis sloppily as he muses filthily, almost like it’s to himself. “Could show you what you look like with my dick inside you. You’re mine forever, Lou, all mine.”

He tightens his arms around Louis’ torso in a hug but he barely registers it, closing his eyes against the thought of committing them to tape doing something like _this_. There’s only one thing that comes to mind and he’s said it already, but twice won’t hurt and his jelly bones mean it.

“Fuck me, Haz,” he begs, fidgeting in his lap, “please, just fuck me, oh god,”

Harry growls playfully into his ear in response, already getting a better purchase on his body to slightly lift Louis away from him, “I will if we can have more of that. Told you I want to hear you scream this whole place down.”

Louis can feel his face heating, shocked and puzzled by his blush and can’t think what to say which therein probably lays the problem, so he shoves his elbow into the soft of his stomach instead. Harry knows him well enough though – _too well_ sometimes – and only chuckles before he starts to do as he’s told. Louis holds that power over him at least.

But if he thought Harry wasn’t messing around before then he finds he’s actually very much mistaken. He takes it up a notch until Louis can’t help getting louder and his pitch higher when he leans a little more on one side of his own volition, altering how he enters him and driving him near insane by nudging into his prostate until Louis really does have the urge to hold _him_ in a vice-like grip and yank his orgasm from under his feet.

“Fucking - jesus - wank - oh _god_!” he yells and, he must admit, it’s quite satisfying to hear his voice ring round the room so clear and Harry’s harsh panting as accompaniment. “Oh fuck, you feel so - so good.”

He grabs for his cock for that extra push and because his arm is still squashed beneath Harry’s neck, he can see what he’s doing and Louis would roll his eyes if he had the effort when he hears the familiar bark of laughter, but this time wobbly and broken up with his erratic breathing. Still, Louis can’t help his smile when that happens and, if anything, his fingers increase their grip until he's fisting his cock like a blur of motion, doing everything he knows will bring him closer and closer to the edge. With this in mind, he stretches out his spine as he arches into Harry filling him up and it’s as if he feels it everywhere, raging hot along his back and through his biceps and pooling in his groin before snapping like a twig and he dimly hears how loud he swears blind past the rushing in his ears and the thunderstorm of his heartbeat as he comes abruptly but a long time coming (pun intended). Throught it all, Harry’s groaning underneath him and clenching his fingers rhythmically into Louis’ hips harder each time, like he’s hoping it’ll bring him back to his senses much quicker and the desperation makes him shiver and relax in Harry’s arms again, grasping his chin to kiss him. He realises belatedly that it’s the hand sticky with his own come but neither seems to mind.

“Wanna get me on my knees, bent over for you, arse in the air?”

Incoherent with just about everything, he moans gratefully and Louis takes that as his answer to move. Harry sticks to him like a limpet except at the last second and Louis goes taut for a split second as his cock again presses into the heat that’s suddenly burning for Louis, licking at his overworked muscles like a genuine fire. Clearly worried about this, Harry whines and tries to pull out even as his hands clasp the cheeks of his arse, but Louis digs his fingers into his thigh and urges him back inside to end like how he wants it, fuck how overused he feels. It seems the right thing to do for Harry at least and Louis shudders as the head of his cock catches his sensitive hole before pushing in again. It feels like hours when it’s only probably minutes and a scream is ripped from his throat and squashed into the seat below Harry’s louder stuttering gasp of “I'm - _shit_ \- I - ” near his ear then there’s a wet lick and stinging pain at his shoulderblade. 

Eventually, Louis lets go of the armrest, his hands aching from the subconscious death grip whilst riding the extra stimulation of Harry’s thrusts, and tries to shrug off Harry half collapsed on top of him when he’s already finding it difficult to breathe. It probably explains the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

“You bit me.” he says in a small, stunned voice. Harry attempts a questioning noise, nuzzling the damp skin of Louis’ other shoulder and definitely not listening. “You _bit_ me.”

He grumbles at that, returning to himself. “Just think of it as revenge for all those times you’ve done the same to me.”

“I didn’t _bite_ you!” he argues.

“No?” Harry, the bastard, sounds amused. “I had marks on me, Lou. They were love _bites_.”

“That’s - ” Louis says faintly, determined not to be beat. “ – That’s sucking, not biting. There’s a difference. I bet you’ve torn a chunk out of me and marred my beauty forever.”

He mumbles a non-committal “hmm” at the half-joke and Louis goes to reprimand him for still not listening properly (maybe his worst habit if Harry even has a worst anything) when something warm, soft and wet touches his skin. Louis would know that touch anywhere, has known it _everywhere_ in fact. Harry presses the teeth of his smile into Louis’ shoulder then licks slowly over the bite again. It throbs, blood pulsing to the spot, and he clamps his mouth shut too little too late as the surprised “ _oh_!” falls from his lips and he tries in vain to wriggle away. Harry has him pinned, of course, and Louis’ just made aware of his cock softening inside him when he withdraws and Louis hisses through his teeth at the movement after lying prone for what feels like forever.

“That’s why I don’t complain,” Harry kisses his warm cheek, sounding smug, “Although you might want to stay away from touching your hips in the next couple of days. Might’ve held a bit, um, tight.”

“Ah, I deserve it.”

Louis sighs, realising that he’s lost this battle and Harry had a point about the shoulder anyway. He never knew how kinky it must’ve felt to have Louis mark him up like this, bordering on possessive. _Yeah_ , he thinks, _I’m all yours_. _You’re all mine_.

He turns over carefully to see Harry kneeling on his haunches to strip off the condom. There’s wet on Louis' back from his front position on all fours imprinting his come onto the seat, but he really doesn’t care about it much right now, not when he catches Harry’s wrist to stop him standing up.

“Hey,” he smiles, “thanks, by the way. You always – ” he pauses to find the words, but ends up giggling mischievously. “ – do as I say. It’s – well, it's scary sometimes y’know?”

Harry must understand what he means because he leaves the condom on (even though it must already be uncomfortable) in favour of crawling between the spread of Louis’ thighs and slithers up his torso to kiss him.

“I like pleasing you,” he grins, eyes hazy indeed with happiness. “ _You_ please me.”

Louis snorts, punching his shoulder lightly. “Soppy git.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah, I love you.” he nods, quietly sincere. But his smile can’t be held for long and neither can his mischief as he stretches against Harry’s chest like a cat. “ _Especially_ if you fuck me like that all the time.”

Harry arches his eyebrow and gets to his feet to, Louis guesses, find some tissues or something. “All the time? Don’t you want in on this?”

He gestures to himself and specifically his arse and Louis rolls onto his side with a laugh and props his elbow up and his head in his hand, watching Harry move about with his long limbs and loping grace. His eyes give him the naked once-over when he’s bending down and Harry must recognise the tone in his voice as he starts to agree because, in the next second, he’s wiggling his arse about and Louis’ got a hand clamped across his mouth as he lets go with louder giggles, amusement crinkling his eyes.

“Oh yeah! I want in on that, alright.”

After stuffing the condom between tissues found in Louis’ pyjama pockets – “your idea, you get rid of the evidence!” – and half hearted protests about sticking around for much too long, Louis pulls him against his sticky chest and drops a kiss to the warm, tangled mess of his curls. The easiest thing to do about the seats is to turn the cushions over until they can mount a more permanent operation for a solution so, with that settled, Louis looks out at the empty venue, soothed by the sound of Harry’s calming breaths for some time before he breaks the silence.

“You were right. I’m never gonna be able to come back here and not think of what we did, am I?”

It sets them off into another round of giggling until they’re sleepy enough that it peters off as they risk dozing for a while then drag themselves to their feet when it gets to too chilly to lie around, sharing soft kisses as they needlessly help each other get dressed and escape without a trace.

If later that morning, fully ensconced back in their hotel bed, Louis wakes him up with a blowjob and wearing nothing but Harry’s white t-shirt that they used earlier to clean up their mess...well, he knows Harry definitely won’t complain.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies x
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com). Come say hi! :D


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